Garden writing is often very tame, a real waste when you think how opinionated, inquisitive, irreverent and lascivious gardeners themselves tend to be. Nobody talks much about the muscular limbs, dark, swollen buds, strip-tease trees and unholy beauty that have made us all slaves of the Goddess Flora. ~Ketzel LevineOption Five: Pick Three

Pick at least three of the following words, and build a piece of writing around them. The form is up to you: poem, scene, flash-fic, essay, or general blog entry.

In terms of seasons, I've always been a fall-ish sort. I adore the flashy beauty of scarlet and golden leaves, the blustery winds that send me running indoors for a thick sweater. And though some might consider it irreverent, I even enjoy the daring strip-tease nature provides, each tree baring its limbs to the pace of some unholy, internal music. After all, what could be more daring than disrobing on the cusp of winter, baring your body and soul to the vicious ice and winds just ahead?

If only I had courage like that, I sometimes think, pulling my own warm layers of clothing even more tightly around me. Courage to stand naked in the coldest of days, to lay waste to all the trappings of life that weigh me down and leave my spirit cold and bare. Courage to pare down to the essence of me, refine myself, and begin again. That's what intrigues me about fall ~ the idea of shedding the old, no matter how glorious and beautiful, to allow for regrowth in new, unforseen directions. For humans, that process is complex and consuming, while the earth does it effortlessly, year after year.

Since I first learned how to tap the keys on an old Remington manual typewriter, I’ve loved to write. It’s how I make sense of life in general and my own in particular. It’s how I understand myself and the world around me. “The good writer,” wrote Ralph Waldo Emerson, “seems to be writing about himself, but has his eye always on that thread of the universe which runs through himself and all things.” As I write about my own life and share my own stories, I hope you recognize that thread of similarity running between my universe and yours.